


Hits and Misses

by Traveler



Series: Hits and Misses [3]
Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Leverage
Genre: Eliot growling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fondling, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, anal sex (chapter 5), fondling (chapter 4), sorta kinda canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 18:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2860238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traveler/pseuds/Traveler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and took the first deep breath he’d taken sense Jake Jensen had hacked his way into his Leverage and Associates computer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zen/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I make no money from the posting of this story, nor do I mean to offend or infringe on anyone's property.
> 
> Happy Holidays!
> 
>  
> 
> As you're reading through if you happen to think, "Hey, that sounds like. . ." from another show. . .you're probably right. They won't play main characters in the story, they're more of a filler, a way to help explain why Eliot feels comfortable in Miami.

Climbing out of the taxi, his beat-up leather travel bag in hand, his boots still dusty and muscles sore from the battle, and then the flight; Eliot growled as the cabby leaned out the window asking if he was sure this was the right address for the fifth time. From the look on the driver’s face, as Eliot looked over his shoulder, long hair hiding part of his face; the growl seemed to be warning and answer enough both. He pulled his head back in the window and shifted the car back in gear, and pulled out.

Eliot walked over to the gate at the front of the self-storage lot, situated along a side street close to the heart of Little Havana. The fine hairs on the back of his neck pickling, alerting him to someone else’s presences; casually turning to face the street, as though he was take in the area, noting small changes from the last time he’d been there.

To someone who didn’t know better, he’d look like a long haired, roughed up, ex-con who’d just gotten out of jail and was coming for his stuff in storage. But, to the man sitting in the late-model Dodge Charger parked 3 cars down knew better. Taking a bite from the cup of yogurt in his hand, he tossed his Aviators onto the dashboard.

The glint of the sun, flashing off of something shiny caught his attention. The scared fingers, forcing the swollen knuckles to curl into loose fists, his muscles coiling to spring; he looked around the area until his gun metal colored eyes caught sight of what had caught his attention; the glare had been caused by the sun reflecting off of a pair of Aviators that had been set on the dashboard of a car, a couple of cars down from where he stood. While still trying to come down from the post avenging mission high and functioning on nothing but instinct fueled by adrenaline; his inner wolf registered the presence as friend and disregarded it as a threat. Even as the Charger roared to life, its Hemi engine settling into a low throated rumble, and pulled slowly down the street passed him, the driver throwing an empty yogurt container out the window at his feet.

Growling, in response, Eliot turned back around, punching in the gate code in, he opened the gate and made his way towards the back of the storage area to one of the larger, garage door bays. As he neared the one he shared with 4 other people, 2 of them now gone-never to return, he dropped the beat-up bag next to the door; pausing to rest his head against the side of the building working to find the strength to keep moving, his body already beginning to react to the warm sun and brine laden breeze that carried the familiar sounds and smells of Miami.

Summoning the strength to keep going from deep within, articulated with the resonating growl that rumbled around his chest before clawing up and out to be heard audibly; he reached down and worked the lock on the door, releasing it so the door could be slid open. Standing with the door as it did, he took in the site of the 3 vehicles parked within.

He could tell, from the lack of dust on anything within the garage, and shine of the bright yellow Ducati that it had been recently ridden. But it was the outline of the steel colored Skyline with its blue graphics, hidden under the tarp that drew his eye. Mentally he knew it’d need to be driven before he left, kept up so that it could be passed on; when the time was right. He knew he couldn’t do it now . . .

Pausing for a moment, setting his hand almost reverently on its hood, he closed his eyes as the memory overwhelmed him.

 

_The humid, salt water tinged air clung to his skin while blowing his hair away from his face. He could hear the various revelers coming and going out of the various clubs. Occasionally, someone would laugh a little too loud, or a couple would drunkenly stumble by. He sat casually astride his flat black Ducati, arms loosely crossed over his helmet just close enough to have a clear view of the final piece of the street race. The text had come in from Jimmy, just after Brian had thrown his towel at his head and threw on a pair of jeans, t-shirt and his Chucks grabbing a quick kiss before he’d run out the door of the house boat. Tej had something up his sleeve for the end of tonight’s race._

_He’d finished dressing and shoved the last of his stuff in his go bag; looking around the house boat he smiled and tossed his beat-up straw cowboy hat on the rumpled bed. They weren’t ones for log good-byes or teary farewells, but he figured the hat would say enough. He’d gotten on his bike and headed to the perfect spot to spy the end of the race; out of the cluster fuck the race crowd would make, but close enough to see the action._

_Throwing his head back he laughed as he saw the bridge start to rise. Pulling the burner cell phone out of his pocket he shot a quick text to Tej saying he was a crazy “Mo Fo”, and slipped it back in his cargo pocket-not expecting an answer. He watched as the driver of the gold themed car hit his spray too early, trying to edge out Brian. Then panic and hit his second bottle to clear the jump, while his ocean eyed driver of the silver Skyline had pressed his car harder, calculating by gut when to hit the spray._

_Shaking his head, he watched as the Skyline took flight; overtop the other car, and the blonds’ “WAHOOOOOO” echoed along the waterway to his ears. Watching the blond land safely he sent off a text informing him that he was crazier than Parker, and he’d see him on the flip side. Sliding the phone back into the pocket, he pulled his hair back and slipped his helmet over his head; revving the engine from idle he took off towards the airport, knowing that someone was waiting that would take his bike and put it in the garage-a smile firmly in place._

 

Shaking his head to clear it, before more memories could break through the cracks that were beginning to form in his protective walls and completely overwhelm him, he grabbed his bag from outside the door and brought it into the garage space. Setting it down out of the way, but within easy reach, he pulled the black twin to the yellow Ducati forward. A note sat tapped to the leather seat, scrawling handwriting he’d recognize anywhere . . .

_”Wahya, I’ve heard what happened and have already gone over the bike. The word has also been spread. You’re safe. The boat is docked where we agreed on the last time we talked, and has supplies. AND if you feel up to it everyone will be at the poker game, Saturday night. ~Red”_

Eliot’s eyes lit for just a moment as he thought about the red head; it also explained the greeting he’d received when the owner of the Charger had tossed his empty yogurt cup out of the driver side window as he passed.

Bowing his head, he closed his eyes and took the first deep breath he’d taken sense Jake Jensen had hacked his way into his Leverage and Associates computer.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Wahya - Cherokee for wolf (http://www.native-languages.org/cherokee_animals.htm)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At some point during a less than lucid moment, Eliot had apparently given Brian a lecture on why Jack Daniels was to always be included in any first aid kit . . .

Parking the bike behind the quiet structure that had once been the center of the underground racing scene in Miami, Eliot climbed off the bike and made his way over to the back door of the garage’s office.   Reaching up, he felt along the top of the door-frame until he found the key they kept there and let himself in. Anyone who’d be looking would recognize his bike so he had little concern that he’d be bothered. Jimmy still ran the garage during the week, but the top floor apartment, that Tej had once called home, had been converted into a safe house that various people utilized.

Opening the door, he paused to listen for any noise that would indicate he wasn’t alone, and then began making his way upstairs. The aches and pains from the battle beginning to pull at his conscious. Tramping them down, he moved with all of the stealth his abused body could muster, up the stairs, maneuvering the various alarms that had been set to protect the bolt hole and those who used it.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he let himself in and flipped the back door light on; giving the universal signal they all used to warn each other that someone was already in the apartment. Once the door was locked and the switch flipped; Eliot sat his bag down and made his way to the closet that he and Brian had claimed to store their gear in.

Opening the door, he felt along the wall to find the trip switch that would pop the faux back open allowing him access to a spare set of clothes and their first aid kit. Snagging a pair of well worn fatigue pants, the scuffed-up combat boots, and black t-shirt, he grabbed the first aid kit with the other and growled when his swollen knuckles struggled to bend. Finally getting a hold of the kit, he made his way to the bedroom. Tossing the clothes on the bed, he kept moving towards the bathroom, and the warm shower it promised.

Starting the water and letting it warm, he sat the kit on the sink and opened it; finding the medium sized bottle of Jack lying on top. Tearing the wrapper off the bottle tore another memory loose;

_He’d flown into LAX on a chartered flight, avoiding people asking question. His hair tied back with a grimy bandana, shirt grimy and his boot still covered in the mud from his hike through the South American jungle. Just a fancy word for swamp to his reckoning. The retrieval hadn’t necessarily been hard, so much as tedious based on the location._

_It’d been the idiots not wanting to pay him that had truly pushed his buttons. It was a risk that came with the job; usually his reputation kept his employers from trying to back out of a deal. Of course, he’d already been hiding several injuries from the battle with the gorillas to get the item, when the over grown excuse for a meat head had taken the swing at his head._

__Growling, now all he wanted to do was to let Brian know he was in town, and to get a key to let himself in the other man’s apartment. He could just surprise the man, but the kid was family, so he was trying to be respectful of the other man’s space._ _

_When he had found the blue eyed would be surfer and late night LAPD Officer, it was in the middle of a car chase that had turned into a foot chase gone wrong. Outnumbered and backup still several blocks away from what he could hear; shaking his head as he watched Brian fight one of the assailants and muttered, “Still the scrappiest fighter I ever saw.” Taking a deep breath; and sticking to the shadows, Eliot picked off men who came near him one at a time until the odds were more in Brian and his partner’s favor._

_Catching the twinkling blue eyes of his friend, he’d growled and faded into the deep shadows, disappearing before any backup could arrive. Figuring that was enough of a notice that he was in town, he headed towards the small place that Officer O’Connor called home._

He remembered little after that, until he woke up 2 days later on the other man’s bed, and Brian sitting guard beside him. To hear Brian tell the story; he’d come home to find Eliot passed out on his bed running a low grade fever as his body fought off an infection in a lovely knife wound he’d been hiding. Brian had said he’d managed to get that under control fairly quick, but his body had needed the rest – but, at some point during a less than lucid moment, Eliot had apparently given Brian a lecture on why Jack Daniels was to always be included in any first aid kit, and informed him that his piss beer stash was a poor man’s substitute.

Smirking, Eliot could honestly say he didn’t recall having had that conversation, but then he wasn’t going to argue the point, either. What it had meant though, was from then on there was ALWAYS a bottle of Jack in Brian’s first aid kit when Eliot had reason to use it.

Breaking the seal and opening the top, on the current bottle, Eliot took a swig, relishing in the burn as it laced fire down his throat and sent warmth curling around his belly. Taking another swig, he set the bottle down and carefully began to strip the clothes he’d traveled in off of his abused body. They’d need to be destroyed to avoid trace; but that could be handled later, now he needed the warmth that the steaming shower promised.

As he stood in the shower, his hands braced on the wall, his head hung between them, letting the steam build around him and the water pounding over his shoulders and back work the tension from his muscles. He didn’t try to stop it when his mind’s eye turned to the text message he’d gotten not 4 months after the Jack Daniel’s lecture.

_The flight had landed in Boston, and he’d just turned his cell phone on and stuffed it in his pocket, when it began to vibrate with an incoming text. Looking at the screen, the number wasn’t familiar, but that didn’t necessarily surprise him. It was the content that had him concerned, the message was simple:_

_Need backup, meet me in Mobile on Tuesday- Tsutla*_

_The signature was Cherokee, and the reference one that only the two people involved in the conversation would know; so he’d gone. He’d gotten to Mobile, Alabama by mid-morning on Tuesday, to find the blond on the run. Jittery from coffee and the uppers he’d been taking to stay awake, and in desperate need of food and sleep._

__He’d gotten a room in a higher class of a flea bag motel, leaving the other man in the car he’d checked the place out. Once he was comfortable that everything was as secure as it was going to get, he’d gotten the other man into the room. Then prodded him just enough to know that the younger man _wasn’t on the side of the angels anymore, and what the situation was – he’d gotten the blond into the shower.__ _

_He wouldn’t pry, because Brian would tell him what’d happened when he was ready. So, while Brian was in the shower, he’d gone about setting unobtrusive warning signals, and turned the scanner on low. Keeping an ear out for possible threats; eventually, he’d been able to get the younger man to fall into an exhausted slumber while Eliot sat on the bed beside him offering a reassuring presence to keep the panic and nightmares at bay._

_Over the next 48 hours, he’d watched the other man’s back; waking him occasionally to drink water and broth; when he finally woke, Eliot hadn’t pushed for anymore of the story-he’d just made sure that the younger man ate solid food and had a plan._

Shaking the water and hair out of his eyes, Eliot started to move, again. Going through his shower on auto pilot, he let his thoughts linger on the younger man, and the changes he’d seen over the years. The night they met at the bar when the blond was fresh out of the academy, and Eliot on a stop-over before heading to places unknown; the too pretty face and easy laughter had stuck out in the small town honky-tonk. Yet, when the fighting was over, they’d been standing back to back protecting each others blind side. They’d thrown their heads back and laughed as they’d slipped out the back door as the local police department had come in the front.

It’d been the beginning of a friendship that spanned the lack of; face-time, communication, and the bitter end to dreams. Through it all, they’d always known that they could trust the other to be strong when they couldn’t be; a partner and back-up, never questioning.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Tsutla - Cherokee for fox (http://www.native-languages.org/cherokee_animals.htm)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short update to tide everyone over while I finish-up the rest of the chapter.

Eliot made his way onto the house boat, pausing for just a moment to adjust to the gentle sway of the vessel beneath his feet.

To avoid issues after Brian had moved back to LA, they’d sold the boat to Red, and he’d been maintaining it utilizing a trust fund that was set-up for him by a “great grand-parent” by the name of Jacob Jensen and managed by an “investment broker” by the name of Alec Hardison. Of course, if IA were ever to look into it – those wouldn’t be the names they’d find . . .

It wasn’t anything elaborate, but it allowed he and Brian to call Miami their home. He’d never been naive about their relationship; he knew the blond was drawn to the family he’d found in Echo Park, and would never begrudge him that. But through the years, when it felt like they’d had no one else – when it felt like everyone had turned their back on them – they’d had each other. Not always had it been the way it was now . . .

Shaking his head, Eliot absentmindedly ran his hand through his hair, pausing to take in his surroundings. He glanced across the canal and nodded in acknowledgement at the sunny-smiled blond, who waved in greeting from her patio, where she sat with a wispy brunette; both stripping and cleaning what looked to be small weapons while enjoying their day off in the Miami sun.

Taking a deep breath, he slid the glass door open, and looked into the living area of the simple house boat. He could tell that Red had asked his house keeper to air the place out, the sea breeze moved the sheer curtains in the window, and fresh tortillas sat on the shelf in the makeshift kitchen area, with a note pinned to the corkboard just above the counter. He’d read it later . . .

Right now; he could feel his body beginning to drag him down, demanding rest. Reaching behind him to grab his bag off of the back deck, he toed off his warn boats and left them there as he stepped through the door. Closing his eyes he took a deep breath, allowing himself to register, and appreciate the scents swirling around inside; the warm Miami breeze thick with the smell of the ocean brine, the gentle yet still industrial smell of the solvents used to clean the boat, and under it all the unique smell that was just them. The smells, that in recent years had replaced those from his childhood when he thought of home, washed over him.

Sighing he slid the door closed, making his way towards the bed and allowing his body to fold in on itself, his knees buckling as he crumbled down on top of it. Burying his face in his pillow he automatically reached out and snagged the other and pulled it close. Weary to the point that he allowed a muffled, wounded cry to escape when the smell of the blond’s favorite shampoo wafted out of its fibers.

Subconsciously acknowledging that the blond and brunette were nearby and Red would be home shortly, allowed his weary mind enough piece to finally let go. There, in the space they called their own –even before they’d become more than friends, or brothers, he allowed himself to rest. Just as Morpheus claimed him he felt the tear slip down the bridge of his nose and fall to the pillow he clung too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those following this story, I apologize it's taking so long to update. I hope you enjoy it. . .


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliot dreams . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who may want a bit of a timeline reference; this is a dream sequence and the events would have taken place towards the beginning of 2 Fast 2 Furious and just after "The Gone Fishin' Job" (Leverage, Season 3/Episode 7).

_. . . Eliot listened to Brian rant on about their friend’s stupidity for not cleaning his gun interspersed with the occasional “how the hell did you do that?” as the blond discovered another area that needed his attention.  Stripped down to nothing, and standing in the space between the bed and the short hallway leading back to the closet that served as a bathroom on the boat, he let himself get lost in the husky voice, gentle touch, and the random dry kisses that he didn’t think the other man realized he was applying._

_This . . . this unquestioned, unconditional, acceptance was why he’d come to Miami to heal.  Why he’d go wherever the blond was anytime he needed to regroup.   He could feel the walls he kept to protect himself, to protect those he cared about from himself - begin to tremble and crack as the blond sowed up the wounds he’d been hiding.  He watched the top of the sun bleached head as the other man moved from one injury to the next, one hand never leaving contact with his body when he paused to dig through the med kit that was next to him._

_Eliot’s eyes darkened as he watched Brian lift the pressure bandage out of kit a growl rumpling low in his chest; oh this was going to hurt.  Smirking at the other man’s huff in response only served to cause the blond to smirk in return; the younger was the only person he knew that would press closer when he heard the growl, not afraid but lending whatever support or strength he needed to make it.  Eliot was tempted to ask Sophie or Nate what they thought, but decided that this was something he didn’t want to share.  Tossing his head back, he closed his eyes and blew out all the breath he could, holding it while the blond tightly wrapping his ribs.  Slowly testing the wrapping as he began to inhale expanding his lungs as he felt the other man tuck the end of the bandage in place to hold it secure._

_It told him how far he’d drifted when he startled at the feel of Brian’s dry lips pressed against his for just a moment.  When he opened his eyes, the blond was already dropping gracefully to his knees in front of him to examine his twisted knee.  They’d never gone this far before, they’d agreed early on in their friendship that they both preferred woman, but things had changed; Nate was running them ragged, hell he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten laid, let alone someone make love to him-touch him like he mattered, the way Brian was now.  “Man, you keep this up, Blondie and as tired as I am . . . I may still manage to get it up."_

_He watched as Brian’s hands stilled at his words; he could tell the other man hadn’t realized what he was doing.  How unconsciously he’d been making love to Eliot as he’d dressed his wounds.  Eliot’s eyes followed the fluid movements of the younger man as he stood from where he’d been wrapping Eliot’s knee in an ace bandage.  The ocean blue meeting and holding the denim blue eyes as the callused hand settled on Eliot’s hip.  As the blond moved to stand behind him, the tanned fingers slid along the curve of Eliot’s waist-their eyes immediately seeking each other’s out in the mirror at the end of the hallway._ _Shuffling forward, the blond pressed forward plastering his clothed body to Eliot’s, a hand moving to rest on either of Eliot’s hips._

_Eliot watched entranced, watching the younger man in the mirror, the movement of a strong hand slipping under his arm on the side that didn’t have the arm strapped to his rib cage to allow the shoulder to heal. Eliot felt as much as saw when the blond’s work roughened palm came to rest in the center of Eliot’s chest.  His eyes tracked the movement of the golden toned appendage as Brian allowed his thumb to caress the skin there.   He was so focused on trying to control the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, yet soak up every detail of this moment, that he didn’t notice the other man lean forward until he spoke softly into ear, “If that’s what it takes for you to know that someone cares.”_

_Eliot’s eyes flew up searching out the aquamarine in the mirror; the white bandages catching his attention scant seconds were they crisscrossed his ruddy skin, a reminder of his Cherokee heritage while they almost glowed against the blond’s golden tone.   But it was the look in the eyes; the open, knowing look, that seemed to see straight through him- that caught him._

_He already knew what he’d see if he was to look at himself; the pieces of a broken man, vulnerable and weary-ready to spill every secret he had in horrid vivid detail in a last ditch attempt to make the younger man stop. To drive him away, so they didn’t have to do this . . . Setting his jaw and maintaining eye contact with the younger man, Eliot saw when he allowed the tenderness to begin to grow, followed by wisps of desire curling up and around like tendrils of smoke.  Eliot wasn’t sure why Brian had chosen now, but he could see the other making a decision; setting his resolve for whatever the night would hold, ready to offer and give whatever Eliot would accept, more importantly what he needed._

_Feeling the moist warmth of the ghost of a breath cross his ear, the gravel of the other man’s voice lowered, teasing at the edges of his already shattered defenses, the place where the blonds’ hand lay over his heart - thumb gently rubbing back and forth; Eliot sighed watching the heat begin to build in the other’s eyes._

_Finally, unable to take anymore he broke. Leaning his head back, resting it on the other’s shoulder, his hair falling away from his face, he allowed Brian to take his weight.  He let go; let go of whatever was holding him together, and he felt the warmth of emotions long locked away flood his senses; hurt and sorrow crashed through as tidal waves leaving behind tide pools of guilt and anguish from past sins.  But just as quickly came the healing rain-in the form of a gentle touch, muscle and bone wrapped in sun bronzed skin and bleached blond hair, holding him as he flew apart.  He swallowed convulsively, working to repress the wounded cry that threatened to claw its way from his throat, even as he worked to keep his breathing steady and the younger man gave him time._

_Ignoring the minuet trimmers that set in, Eliot tried to form the words to tell the other man, to explain, “Brian, I hurt pretty bad.  The reality is; Nate’s drinking again and we did that job in Juarez,” He paused for a moment trying to find his words, “It was bad.  Then we got back and he ran that job here that turned crazy.  I mean, come on - Hardison set off a fertilizer bomb with a menthol light.”  Shaking his head, “Bri, I’m in bad shape-even I can admit that.”  Eliot paused again licking his lips and taking a deep breath.  He couldn’t seem to vocalize his acceptance of what the other man was offering._

_It’d been so long since he’d allowed himself to need someone, to let someone take care of him – He was the hitter, he was the protector, he was the retrieval specialist . . .Yet this surpassed all of that; he’d allowed someone to get close enough to force him to acknowledge his need.  All he truly knew was that the warmth the other man offered made him feel, again.  Made him remember why he’d gotten away from Damien Moreau, why he wanted to help people, again._

_Reaching his unbound hand across his body, he lifted his head from Brian’s shoulder so that he could meet the ocean blue eyes in the reflection; the shattered, vulnerable look on his own face contrasting with the focused, yet almost mischievous sparkle in the other man’s eyes.  Grasping the other man’s hand where it was stroking his hip, he brought it down between his legs to cup his dick and balls.  Squeezing the other man’s hand gently to make sure he got the hint; once he knew Brian had he let go and reached back up to intertwine his fingers with Brian’s on his chest, letting his head fall back onto Brian’s shoulder letting go._

_He allowed the warmth of the hard body pressed behind him to seep into him and surround him; even as Brian’s callused fingers reached below his dick to gently cup his balls and roll them, his thumb nail occasionally, gently doing a snag-scrape up and down the underside of his dick.  He was surprised that despite his bodies fatigue, his member slowly began to fill._

_Eliot could feel the blond’s eyes on him, watching him via the reflection in the mirror. When the younger man spoke, he kept his voice low; “Wahya, do you know what I see when I look at you?  I see a man who’s served his country.  I see a man who would give anything to protect his friends and his family – even if they’ve turned their backs on him.  I see a man who made mistakes, and while others have forgiven him; he has yet to forgive himself.  I see a man who has the scars to prove his sacrifice, to show his unconditional gifts.  A man who thinks the beatings he receives are deserved. What I see?  I see a man who sacrifices himself; his well being for those he cares about.  I know.  Don’t think that I don’t know who beat the shit out of those thugs in East LA that time, when I was on the ground spitting up blood.  Or that time when we were under attack, penned down in the middle of a gang war and all of a sudden the tides turned.  And there are countless other times; bro I may talk like I’ve had one too many hits on the group joint being passed around but I’m not stupid,”_

_Eliot felt Brian press moist kisses to the side of his neck and along the cusp of his shoulder all the while his hand and fingers continued to work the other man’s length. Glancing back up blue eyes, so similar yet not meeting in the mirror again, “Eliot, I see a man who is beautiful to me; a man who gives himself too little credit.  A man who deserves to be loved.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexy times are coming!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dream that tells their shift to lovers . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the dream sequence in Chapter 4 . . .

_Standing in the middle of the cabin of Brian’s house boat, eyes closed fighting the urge to cover himself; not just his sex, hell he’d been in close quarters combat and had no issues with his body.  This was more than a physical thing; this was emotional.  Rarely had he let anyone in this far; Brian was an exception to every rule he had, the younger man always had been.  But right now, he felt raw-like Brian could see right through him; every crack, every flaw, every secret he kept hidden from everyone else Brian had exposed them all and laid them bare.  “You know I ain’t a chic, right Blondie?  Hell, Bri at this point I don’t know that there’s enough left to get it up.  Let alone do anything with it, the way you have me mummied up.”_

_He watched as Brian turned to face him, hands resting on the slim hips and smirked.  Eliot watched as the stormy blue eyes raked over his battered body, “Who said anything about you doing anything?”_

_A shiver made its way through him as the blond saddled close, invading his personal space, again so that he could feel the blond’s awakening erection._

_Eliot’s eyes were trained on the blush colored lips as he felt the roughened pad of the blonds thumb brush across his own dry lips, his tongue slipping out to dampen the digit.  When the blond spoke again there was a husk to his voice that hadn’t been there before, “This – whatever we decide this is, even if it gets filed under the things we do to make it . . . Tonight is about you.  Tonight, I’m doing the work, and man if your body can’t do its thing – That’s okay.  I’m still going to put on a show for you.”  That smirk that usually accompanied the blond’s sass presented itself as the blond leaned forward to press his lips gently to Eliot’s.  Eliot felt his eyes drift close, as the blond deepened the kiss, threading his hands back through Eliot’s hair on either side of his head deepening the kiss._

_Eliot’s free arm automatically came up to Brian’s waist to steady himself from the onslaught; he felt like his senses were trying to short circuit.  The feel of the rough hewn kaki of Brian’s shorts against the skin of his thighs; snagging at his leg hairs as the other man moved, to the feel of the soft warn cotton of his shirt offering just a teasing brush against his nipples causing the dusky nubs  to pebble, the gentle tug on his scalp as Brian’s hands grasped his hair and head.  At the gentle prodding of Brian’s tongue he opened his mouth allowing his own tongue to meet with Brian’s and dual.  He groaned when he tried to reach out and pull the other man to him and the pain in his shoulder flared reminding him of his injuries and the fact that Brian had taped his arm down to protect his shoulder.  As he felt the smirk reappear on the younger man’s lips he growled; although he wasn’t sure if he was growling at his body’s betrayal, or the young-ins dirty tactics, or all of the above._

_A low groan, clawed its way out of Eliot’s throat, when the blond sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he  pulled back, gently letting it go before pressing back in an stealing another quick kiss he whispered against the moist lips, “Get situated on the bed.  I’ll be right back.”  Pressing in for another quick kiss he stepped away from Eliot and moved quickly to the other side of the large living area._

_Eliot managed to sit down and maneuver himself into the cradle of the pillows, on the mess that Brian called a bed, allowing them to take the weight of his battered torso.  Once situated he allowed his gaze to alight on Brian, watching him as he moved about the small area; Eliot raised an eyebrow when the other turned and froze, the aqua gaze taking on a momentary intensity.  Like the younger man was etching the memory into his brain._

_Hooded blue eyes watched as Brian met Eliot’s gaze and raised his arms over his head to pull his shirt off.   Tossing the shirt to the side, pausing a moment allowing the other man to look his fill in return; Eliot couldn’t help the widening of his eyes, when he saw the glint of light off the gold balls that snuggled close to either side of the blond’s dusty colored nipples, his cock harden further giving a little jump at the idea of getting those in his mouth._

_As he watched the blond continue to expose new skin, using the hand that wasn’t taped to his ribs, Eliot reached down and gently stroked his hardening cock-wanting nothing more than to be able to touch each piece of slowly exposed body in front of him.   If anyone where to have asked, he’d never admit it out loud, but the sun bleached blond curls coupled with the golden tan made the other man look like a young demi-god from mythology._

_Taking a deep breath, he watched as the younger man finally straddled his legs and prowled up his body until he sat straddling the elder’s thighs.  Leaning forward he reached over Eliot’s head and grabbed a small jewelry box, opening it and setting it on his chest.  Smirking as he removed each of the barbells from his nipples and replaced them with hoops.  As the blond leaned forward to put the box back it brought the hoops to within reach and Eliot took the opportunity to latch on to one and gently tug at it; driving a moan from the blond as he used one hand to brace himself on the bulkhead ledge and the other to help support Eliot’s head as Eliot tormented the numb with tongue and teeth.  Shifting to the other, he lavished it with attention as the blond tossed his head back and arched into his mouth, breath coming in short pants while rubbing his hard cock against Eliot’s abs._

_Pulling away from Eliot’s mouth, Brian leaned forward and kissed Eliot – while the mischievous fingers wrapped themselves around his erection; thumb pressed to the underside of the crown against his glands, the rest of his hand wrapping itself around the firm dick, sliding up and down the velvet skin.  Finally, the blond was satisfied and crept backwards a bit, sitting up he held a foil package in his hand.  Tearing it open he pulled the condom out and slipped it over Eliot’s length, adding a bit of lube in a swift stroke, then reached behind himself.  Eliot watched as blond arched slightly, reaching behind himself to press lubed fingers in, a muffled gasp as he breached himself._

_Eliot watched as the blond arched slightly, gasping as he pressed lubed fingers in taking scant moments to prepare himself.  Before, he could even mutter a protest, the blond was wiping the excess lube from his fingers with towel one of them had previously discarded and was moving forward again, sitting up on his knees; one hand braced on the elder’s chest while the other reached behind and grasped his dick.  Bringing his free hand up to hold Brian’s where it was on his chest, his eyes searched out the blond’s and held them as the younger slowly sank down onto his dick._

_Eliot moaned as the blond bottomed out, the tight heat gripping his dick; he clasped his hand tight around the blond’s fighting he urge to thrust up trying to allow the blond a chance to take it at his pace.  Finally, the blond sat back on his hunches clenching and unclenching around Eliot’s dick milking it to the point that he was seeing stars.  Having let go of Brian’s hand when the blond sat up, he lifted his hand from where it sat on the blond’s thigh and gave first one golden hoop a gentle tug relishing the gasp that it drove from the other man.  Flicking each numb in turn, Eliot reached down and wrapped his hand around the blond’s prick.  He watched, mesmerized as the blond slowly began to lean backwards; until he was lying against Eliot’s legs._

_The exquisite pressure causing his eyes to roll back in his head, his hand searching out the blond’s at his side as they clasped fingers, while the other focused on using his inner muscles to clinch and pulse slowly milking Eliot’s cock.  Eliot clinched the muscles in his body tight, using every out of control to keep from surging up into the younger man - least he hurt them both._

_Finally he’d had enough, and using their joined hands, he pulled Brian back towards him encouraging the other man to sit forward again –letting out a moan that may have had a half formed curse to it as the pressure eased.  When the blond was finally sitting back-up and Eliot had taken a moment play with those sensitive numbs, he grabbed one of the hoops and pulled drawing the blond forward until he could kiss him.  Pulling away, just enough Eliot growled against his lips “ride me.”_

_That’s all it took; Brian began to raise and lower himself on Eliot’s cock – allowing Eliot to surge up to meet him on his down stroke.  Both shifting until finally the head of Eliot’s cock was rubbing over the younger man’s prostrate forcing half formed cries and moans of pleasure from the blond.  The strong thighs rising him up and then slamming him back down even as Eliot surged up to meeting him, all injuries, or preconceived ideas of gentleness were gone.  For moments, all that was heard were the sounds of skin against skin, half formed words, and panting breaths –until the ocean blue eyes looked down and met those of the denim blue and Eliot growled the words, “Cum for me, Brian.” grabbing a hold of a ring and tugging, then wrapping his hand around the other’s dick pumping._

_The blond’s body went taunt – head back, back bowed to the point of painful, his muscles clamping down on Eliot’s cock driving the other man over the edge with him sending seed spilling into the condom, while Brian painted them with his cum._

_Once he was able to move again, Brian rolled his hips continuing to ride through the aftershocks.  Then he climbed off of Eliot and disposed of the condom using a hand towel he’d found on the floor beside the bed to clean them off.   He pulled the sheet over their bodies and curled up next to Eliot, falling asleep quickly.  Eliot had taken those few minutes to study the younger man, memorizing the relaxed features and noting the ways the other had changed as he’d gotten older._


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The finale

Eliot road, throttle open, allowing the roar of the bike’s engine to sooth his mind, as he made his way towards the quiet beach he and Brian had frequented; the last vestiges of the dream still whispering through his mind.  The distinct sound of another customized engine coming up behind him caught his attention; glancing over his shoulder out of habit, the glimpse of red hair and Canary yellow putting his mind at ease.

Easing off the throttle, allowing the other bike to pull closer so that it was obvious they were together, waving as they passed one of Miami Dade’s finest, the pair made their way to the parking lot just above the beach; then down the trail onto the white sand beaches – neither man feeling the need to break the silence between them.  Each lost in their own memories of the friends/brothers/lovers they’d lost.

His mind turning introspective, Eliot found a spot just above the tide line and sat; knees drawn up to his chest and arms resting on top.  His denim blue eyes staring out over the sea unfocused; most people had pegged his blond as a late riser, and they would have been correct most of the time.  But, he knew that aside from the sound of a well tuned engine, and call of the racing scene - the ocean had called to the blond, like the sirens of old the sailors used to tell stories of.   He could remember the last time the two had been to the very spot he and Red were sitting in.

They’d not been to bed yet, each of them coming off of difficult missions and having a gut feeling that it would be the last time for a while, that they’d see each other.  As soon as they’d hit the beach, the blond had dropped his towel and ran, surf board under his arm out into the water – climbing aboard the lithe body making it look easy to send the board skimming over the waves and out past the breakers.  As the first real rays of light began to paint the eastern horizon Eliot had shed his shirt and shoes, and taken a starting position to work through several Katas, being both a relaxation and practice for him. 

A while later, as he finished his routine, he’d taken a similar position to the one he was currently in- the gulls crying overhead and the sand pipers running back and forth along the shore searching for breakfast; he watched as Brian straddled his board, bobbing on the gentle rise and swell, head back and face turned to the morning sun; all the while silhouetted by its golden rays.

Closing his eyes, Eliot held onto the memory etching it into his mind; protecting it so that he’d be able to call up that moment in the future, when he knew he was alone and could look his fill.  Those were the times he cherished the most, when the two of them could just be.  There was no family, no crew waiting for them – they could just be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day; after he and Red had made their way back to the house, and enjoyed breakfast chatting about anything and nothing, Eliot had received a text letting him know that Jake and Cougar had made it to town and would join everyone for the poker night.  Not long after, while he was buried in the engine of the boat, he received a garbled text about high metabolisms and the lil bro not understanding that a man couldn’t fly halfway around the world on freeze dried food.  To be followed closely by a less garbled text confirming Tej & Rome were stateside and meeting up with Suki and Jimmy but they’d see him at the poker game.    

Eliot took a moment to appreciate the irony surrounding the people that he and Brian had called family; a mesh of law enforcement, military, feds, mercenaries, and street racers.  The poker game would have representation from all of the areas; and it didn’t always work.  But, tonight he suspected it would-if for no other reason, than they were all celebrating the life of someone who’d showed them all how to work together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that evening; as everyone sat around the room Corona’s in hand, laughing as someone retold the story, for the relative newcomer of the group who had moved from Chicago to Miami after it’d happened, of one ex-LAPD officer, launching his car off an embankment only to park the late modeled blue Camaro on the upper deck of a suspect’s yacht . . . Eliot smiled, lifting his Corona to take a swallow, and glanced in the mirror above the bar.  

For a brief moment he could see the blond curls, sparkling blue eyes, and face full of laughter of one Brian O’Conner.  Standing over his shoulder and just to the right, like he always had . . .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's done; the backstory has been told. . . .
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed it!
> 
> Author's note: I'm sorry the last 2 chapters took so long to post. I went and saw the movie and my muse refused to talk to me for a bit. He finally re-emerged and was ready to finish the story.


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